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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (July 29, 1909)
4Y & . COPYRIGHT 1907 — THE. OOBft-5—flERRILLCa. cSO&EPfE* 'vJ#\NC/El=> SYNOPSIS. "Mad” Dan Maitland, on reaching his ry*w York bachelor club, met an attrac tiye young woman at the door. Janitor O Hagan assured him no one had been within that day. Dan discovered a wom an s finger prints in dust on his desk, along with a letter from his attorney. Maitland dined with Bannerman. his at torney. Dan set out for Greenfields, to get his family jewels. During, his walk to the country seat, he met the young woman in gray, whom he had seen leav ing his bachelors’ club. Her auto had broken down. He fixed it. By a ruse she lost" him. Maitland, on reaching home, surprised lady in gray, cracking the safe containing his gems. She, apparently, took him for a well-known crook, Daniel Anisty. Half-hypnotized, Maitland opened Ids safe, took therefrom the jewels, and gave them to her. first forming a part nership ip. crime. The real Dan Anisty. sought by police of the world, appeared on the same mission. Maitland overcame him. He met the girl outside the house and they sped on to Xew York in her au to. He had the* jewels and she promised to meet him that day. Maitland received a "Mr. Snaith,” introducing himself as a defective. To shield the girl in gray. Maitland, about to show him the jew els. supposedly lost, was felled by a blow from “SnaJth’s” cane. The latter proved to he Anfsty himself and he secured the gems. Anisty, who was Maitland’s dou ble. masqueraded as the latter. The riminal ke pt Maitland’s engagement with the girl jn gray. He gave her the gems, after falling in love at first sight. They were to meet and divide the loot. Mait land revived and regretted missing his engagement. Anisty, masquerading as Maitland. narrowly avoided capture ihrough mysterious tip. The girl in gray visited Maitland’s apartments during iiis absence and returned gems. CHAPTER VIII.—Continued. But where to put them, that he might find them without delay? It must be no conspicuous place, where j O'Hagan would be apt to happen upon them; doubtless the janitor was trust worthy, but still . . . Misplaced opportunities breed criminals. It was all a risk to leave the treas ure there, without the protection of nickeled-steel walls and timelocks; but a risk that must be taken. She dared not retain it longer in her pos session; and she would contrive a way in the morning to communicate with Maitland and warn him. Her gaze searched the area where the lamplight fell soft yet strong upon the dark shining wood and heavy brass desk fittings; and paused, ar rested by -the unusual combination of inverted bowl and super-imposed book. A riddle to be read with facility; in a twinkling she had uncovered the in criminating hand-print—incriminating if it could be traced, that is to say. "Oh!” she cried, softly. And laughed a little. “Oh, how careless!” Fine brows puckered, she pondered the matter, and ended by placing her own hand over the print; this one fitted the other exactly. "How he must have wondered! . . He is sure to look again, espe cially if—” No need to conclude the ^sentence. Quickly she placed bag and case squarely on top of the impression, the bowl over all, and the book upon the bowl; then, drawing from her pocket a pair of long gray silk gloves, draped one across the book; and, head tilted to one side, admired the effect. It seemed decidedly an artistic ef fect, admirably calculated to attract attention. She was satisfied to the point of being pleased with herself: a fact indicated by an expressive flutter of slim, fair hands. And now, to work! Time pressed, and— A cloud dimmed the radiance of her eyes; irresolutely she shifted in her chair, troubled, frowning, lips woefully drooping. And sighed. And a still small whisper, broken and wretched, disturbed the quiet of the study. “I can not! O, I can not! To spoil it all, now, when—" Yet she must. She must forget her self and steel her determination with the memory that another's happiness hung in the balance, depended upon her success. Twice she had tried and failed. This third time she must suc ceed. And bowing her head in token of her resignation, she turned back squarely to face the desk. As she did so the toe of one small shoe caught against something on the floor, causing a dull jingling sound. She stooped, with a low exclamation, and straightened k. tip, a small bunch of keys in her hand; eight or ten of them dangling from a silver ring; Maitland's keys. He must have dropped them there, forgetting them altogether. A find of value and one to save her a deal of trouble; skeleton keys are so exas peratingly slow, particularly when used by inexpert hands. But how to bring herself to make use of these? All's lair in war (and this was a sort of war, a war of wits at least); but one should fight with one's own arms, not pilfer the enenmy's and turn them against him. To use these keys to ransack Maitland’s desk seemed an action ever more blackly dishonorable ] than this clandestine visit, this mid-1 night foray. Swinging the notched metal slips I from a slender finger, she content-I plated them; and laughed ruefully. | What qualms of conscience in a burg lar, self-confessed! She was there for a purpose, a recognized, nefarious pur pose. Granted. Then why quibble? She would not quibble. She would be firm. resolute. determined, cold blooded, unmindful of all kindness and courtesy and— She would use them, accomplish her purpose, and have done, finally and for ever, with the whole hateful business! There was a bright spot of color on either cheek and a hot light of anger in her eyes as she set about her task. It would never be less hideous, never less immediate. The desk drawers yielded easily to the eager keys. One by one she had them open and their contents explored —vain repetition of yesterday after noon's fruitless task. But she must be sure, she must leave no stone un turned. Maitland Manor was closed to her for ever, because of last night. But here she was safe for a few short hours, and free to make assurance doubly sure. _ There remained the dispatch box, , I Registering Under the Name of “Mr. Daniels.” the black japanned tin box which had proved obdurate yesterday. She had come prepared to break its lock this time, if need be; Maitland's careless ness spared her the necessity. She lifted it out of a lower drawer, and put it in her lap. The smallest key fitted the lock at the first attempt. The lid came up and— Perhaps it is not altogether discred itable that one should temporarily for get one's compunctions in the long-de ferred moment of triumph. The girl uttered a little cry of joy. Crash!—the front door downstairs had been slammed. She was on her feet in a breath, faint with fear. Yet not so overcome that she forgot her errand, her suc cess. As she stood up she dropped the dispatch box back into the drawer, without a sound, and. opening her hand-bag, stuffed something into it. No time to do more; a dull rumble of masculine voices was distinctly, frightfully aud'ble in the stillness of the house; voices of men conversing together in me inner vestibule. One laughed, and the laugh seemed to penetrate her bosom like a knife. Then both strode across the tiling and began to ascend, as was clearly told her by footsteps sounding deadened on the padded carpet. Panic-stricken, she turned to the student lamp and with a quick twirl and upward jerk of the chimney-catch extinguished the flame. A reek of smoke immediately began to foul the close, hot air; and she knew that it would betray her, but was helpless to stop it. Besides, she was caught, trapped, damned beyond redemption unless—unless it were not Maitland, after all, but one of the other tenants, unexpectedly returned and bound for another flat. Futile hope. Upon the landing by the door the footsteps ceased; and a key grated in the wards of the lock. Blind with terror, her sole thought an instinctive impulse to hide and so avert discovery Until the last possible instant, and on the bare chance of somerhing happening to save her, the girl caught up her skirts and fled like a hunted shadow through the alcove, through the bed chamber, thence down the hall toward the dining room and kitchen offices. The outer door was being opened ere she had reached the hiding place she had in mind—the trunk closet— from which, she remembered remark ing. a window opened upon a fire escape. it was barely possible, a fighting chance. She closed the door, grateful that its latch slipped silently into place, and fairly flung herself upon the win dow, painfully bruising her soft hands in vain endeavor to raise the sash. It stuck obstinately, would not yield. Too late, she remembered that she had forgotten to draw the catch— fatal oversight! A sob of terror choked in her throat. Already foot steps were hurrying down the hall; a line of light brightened underneath i the door; voices, excitedly keyed, i bandied question and comment, an un mistakable Irish brogue minging with a clear enunciation which she had but too great reason to remember. The pair had passed into the next room. She could hear O'Hagan announcing: “No wan here, sor.” ‘‘Then it's the dining room, or the trunk closet. Come along!” One last, frantic attempt! But the window catch, rusted with long dis use, stuck. Panting, sick with fear, the girl leaped away and crushed her self into a corner, crouching on the floor behind a heavy box, her dark cloak drawn up to shield her head. And the door opened. A flood of radiance from the re lighted student lamp fell athwart the floor. The girl lay close and still, hold ir g her breath. Ten seconds, perhaps, ticked on into eternity; seconds that were in them selves eternities. Then: ”Xo one here, O'Hagan." The door was closed, and through its panels more faintly came: "Faith, and the murdhering divvle must 've flew th' coop afore ye come in.sor.” The girl tried to rise, to make again for ihe window; but it was as though her limbs had turned to water; there was no strength in her; and the black ness swam visibly before her eyes, ra diating away in whirling, streaky cir cles. Even such resolution and strong will as was hers could not prevail against that numbing, deathly exhaustion. Her eyes closed and her head fell back against the wall. It seemed but an instant (though it was in point of fact a full five min utes) ere the sound of a voice again roused her. She looked up, dazzled by a gush of warm light. He stood in the doorway, holding the lamp high above his head, his face pale, grave, and shadowed as he peered down at her. “I have sent O'Hagan away,” he said, gently. "If you will please to come, now—” CHAPTER IX. Procrastination. The cah which picked Maitland up at his lodgings carried him but a few blocks to the club at which he had, the previous evening, entertained his law yer. Maitland had selected it as the one of all the clubs of which he and Bannerman were members, wherein he was least likely to meet the latter. Neither frequented its sober precincts by habit. Its severe and classical building on a corner of Madi son avenue overlooking the square, is but the outward presentment of an in stitution to be a member of which is a duty, but emphatically no great pleasure, to the sons of a New York family of any prominence. But in its management the younger generation holds no suffrage; and is not slow to declare that the Primordial is rightly named, characterizing the individual members of the board of governors as antediluvians, prehistoric monsters who have never learned that laughter lends a savor to existence. And so it is that the younger genera tion (which is understood to include Maitland and Bannerman), while it re ligiously pays its dues and has the name of the Primordial engraved upon its cards, shuns those deadly respec table rooms and seeks its comfort else where. Maitland found it dull and depress ing enough, that same evening, some thing before seven. The spacious and impressive lounging rooms were but sparsely tenanted, other than by the ennuied corps of servants; and the few members who had lent the open doors the excuse of their presence were of the elderly type that hides itself behind a'newspaper in an easy chair and snorts when addressed. The young man strolled disconso lately enough into the billiard room, thence (dogged by a specter of lone liness) to the bar, and finally, in sheer desperation, to the dining room, where he selected a table and ordered an evening paper with his meal. When the former was brought him. he sat up and began to take a new in terest in life. The glaring head lines that met his eye on the front page proved as bracing as a slap in the face. ‘■‘The Maitland Jewels,’” he read, half aloud: “ ‘Daring Attempt at Burg lary. "Mad” Maitland Catches "Hand some Dan" Anisty in the Act of Crack ipg His Safe at Maitland Manor. Which Was Which? Both Principals Disappear.’ ” The news-storv was exploited as a “beat;" it could have been little else, since nine-tenths of its "exclusive de tails" had been born full-winged from the fecund imagination of a busy re porter to whom Maitland had refused an interview while in his bath, some three hours earlier. Maitland discov ered.with relief that boiled down to es sentials it consisted simply of the statement that somebody (presumably himself) had caught somebody (pro sumably Anisty) burglarizing the li brary safe at Maitland Manor that morning; that one of the somebodies (no one knew which) had overpowered the other and left him in charge of the butler, who had presently permitted his prisoner to escape and then talked for publication. It was not to this so much that Mait land objected. It was the illustra tions that alternately saddened and maddened the young man; the said il lustrations comprising blurred half tone reproductions of photographs taken on the Maitland estate; a dia gram of the library, as fanciful as the text it illuminated, and two portraits, side by side, of the heroes, himself and Anisty, excellent likenesses both of the originals and of each other. Mr. Maitland did not enjoy his din ner. Anxious and preoccupied, he tasted the dishes mechanically; and when they had all passed before him, took his thoughts and a cigar to a gloomy corner of the smoking room, where he sat for two solid hours, debating the matter pro and con. and arriving at no conclusion whatever, save that Hig gins was doomed. At 10:15 he began to contemplate with positive pleasure the prospect of discharging the butler. That, at least, was action, something that he could do; wiierever else he thought to move he found himself baffled by the blank darkness of mystery, or by his fear of publicity and ridicule. At 10:20 he decided to move upon Greenfields at once, and telephoned O'Hagan, advising him to profess ig norance of his employers where abouts. At 10:22, or in the midst of his ad monitions to the janitor, he changed his mind and decided to stay in New York; and instructed the Irishman to bring him a suit case containing a few necessaries: his intention being to stay out .the night at the club, and so avoid the matutinal siege of his lodg ings by reporters and detectives. At 10:45 a club servant handed him the card of a representative of the Evening Journal. Maitland directed that the gentleman be shown into the reception room. At 10:46 he skulked out of the club by a side entrance, jumped into a cab and had himself driven to the East Thirty-fourth street ferry, arriving there just in time to miss the last train for Greenfields. Denied the shelter alike of his lodg ings, his club, and his country home, the young man in despair caused him self to be conveyed to the Bartholdi hotel, where, possessed of a devil of folly, he preserved his incognito by reg istering under the name of “M. Dan iels." And straightway retired to his room. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Heartaches on Every Page - &--—__ Pathos and Tragedy in the Leaves of the Old Album. On every page of an old album is written heartache, downfall, disillu sion. loneliness. Here is the picture of the boy whose every waking hour outside of school was partly yours. So genial a fellow he was, so ambi tious, so brilliant. You saw him last year, and hardly recognized the shab by wreck that drink had made, hardly were able to eke out half an j hour's conversation with him. Here is the coli ge chum with the fine head who was to do great things in life. Consumption. The blossom blighted rre the fruit was set. This other classmate with the face of Keats—the merest hair’s breadth of misdirection in a furrow of his brain, first manifested in a comic oddity. After the flesh, our friend still lives; only his mind is dead. And here is one whose e-ery line ament shows forth engagi ,g frank ness and the joy of life— ..arse than dead. Embezzler, guilty fugitive with a neighbor's wife. His broken-heart ed old father, his wife, his children— all of us who trusted him. how much rather would we have followed him to his grave than have this come upon him! And then the long list of those with whom our lives were interwined. for whom we hoped, believed, expect ed—mere insipidities, trifles, failures, half-successes, living along somehow. And we ourselves. What we meant then to be; and what we are!—Eu gene Wood. "Aftermath." "Aftermath” is a persistently ill used wxrd. Early July is the time of the math; that is, the first mowing of the meadow. The short grass— with a sufficiency of rain—will grow again, and later will come the "second mow” or "aftermath.” The phrase "the storm and its aftermath” seems a favorite with some story writers, but it is difficult to understand how a storm can have a second mowing! ALCOHOL 3 P2R CENT. AN^table Reparation IbrAs simifating LWoodandReguta ting (Jic StomadB aadBrn'.^sif Promoles DigeslionJCkerfii ness and RestXoutaiiisueiffirr Opiuni.Morphinc nor Mineral Not Narcotic. £cupt oftHdDcSSmjUWl Bntpkia Setdm ~ JtxJaaa* 1 AUkSdK- I jtaseSni* I test**. ? Km Sard - I Ctariikd Sum'• 4 VSifaftmTtmr. 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GENUINE CASTORIA ALWAYS He Kind You to Always Bought In Use For Over 30 Years TWr CENTAUR COMPANY, TT MURRAY STREET, NEW YORK CITY* COULDN'T GET Si TO ENTHUSE Hired M3n’s Remarks Could Hardly De Seid to Be in Nature of of Compliment. Tlic young lawyer, having been nominated for the office of county at torney, thought to surprise an eccen tric genius by the name of Si who was working as a hired man on the young lawyer’s father's farm. "Well, Si, what do you think?” the young man began. "Sometimes one thing, Lonny, an' sometimes ’nother.” "But, Si, they have nominated me for county attorney.” "They might 'a' done worse, Lon ny. Howsomever, don’t holler till you’re out of the woods.” The young attorney was duly elected, and on his next visit to the farm announced the fact unctuously te Si, who was at the woodpile, saw iu hand. “Well, Si. I am elected by a large majority. What do you think of that?” “Well, Lonny, down in our parts where I was raised, when we wanted a stopper ’n’ hadn’t any cork, we generally took a corn cob.”—Youth's Companion. SKIN ERUPTION CURED. Was So Sore, Irritating and Painftjl | That Little Sufferer Could Not Sleep —Scratched Constantly. Cuticura's Efficacy Clearly Proven. “When about two and a half years old my daughter broke out on her hips and the upper parts of her legs with a very irritating and painful eruption. It began in October; the first I noticed was a little red surface and a constant desire on her part to scratch her limbs. She could not sleep and the eruptions got sore, and yellow water came out of them. I had two doctors treat her, but she grew worse under their treat ment. Then I bought the Cuticura Remedies and only used them two weeks when she was entirely well. This was in February, she has never had another rough place on her skin, and she is now fourteen years old. Mrs. R. R. 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Anything else you want to know? Get up here, hosses.” The Thrifty Scot. A Scotsman and his wife were com ing from Leith to London by boat. When off the Yorkshire coast a great storm arose and the vessel had sev eral narrow escapes from foundering. “Oh. Sandy,” moaned Jiis wife. “I’m na afeard o' deein’, but I dinna care to dee at sea.” “Dinna think o’ deein’ yet,” an swered Sandy; ‘‘but when ye do, ye’d i better be drooned at sea than any where else.” “An‘ why, Sandy?” asked his wife. "Why?” exclaimed Sandy. “Because ye wouldn’t cost sae muckle to bury." The extraordinary nopularity of fine white goods this summer makes the choice of Starch a matter of great im portance. Defiance Starch, being free from ail injurious chemicals, is the only one which is safe to use on fine fabrics. It great strength as a stiffen er makes half the usual quantity of Starch necessary, with the result of perfect finish, equal to that when the goods were new. Well, Not Very Often. 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